Gilan's Day Off
by Trouble in the Night
Summary: One-Shot. There are many ways to annoy a Ranger, an art that Ranger Apprentices tend to be very proficiant at. But the most foolproof way to annoy Ranger Halt is to mess with his apprentice. Written for Caramel Cheesecake's Gilan challenge. Features Gilan, Halt, and a younger Sir Rodney.


**Disclaimer: I don't own Rangers Apprentice *cries quietly in the corner***

**Hello, Everyone! I JUST FINISHED EXAMS! *dances* Anyway, this is my entry to Caramel Cheesecake's Gilan challenge.  
The rules (copied straight from Caramel Cheesecake's profile):**

**THE CHALLENGE:** Write a story about Gilan's apprenticeship to Halt. Because, unfortunately, John Flanagan won't be doing that.  
**WHAT IS ALLOWED: **References to the books, OCs (up to three, not including Gil and Halt's families), fluff, angst, crack, mild romance, one-shots, up to five swear words.  
**WHAT ISN'T ALLOWED: **Slash, chapter stories (sorry, but that'll take too long), more than five swear words, fics that say RA sucks and nobody should read it (parodies are allowed).  
**WHAT WILL NOT BE TOLERATED: **Very bad grammar, very bad spelling (that you don't make an effort to correct), the 'F' word (you know, the actual one), the 'S' word.  
**WHAT WORDS ARE REQUIRED: **Fall, ache, twinge, shadows, candle, leaf, cloak, dagger, spoon, vile, flower, fire, report, letter, melt, twit (I love that word).  
**WHAT PHRASES ARE REQUIRED (four to six out of six): **"But, Halt...!", "It's called Sarcasm.", "Not like I had anything to do with it…", "But that's not how…!", " Drop of ink.", "And you're here because…?"  
**THE LAST REQUIRMENT:** Every story **MUST **contain at least one Ranger's Apprentice simile or metaphor. Which is a comparison relative to a term from the series.

**So yeah. Heaps of fun to write. The required words and phrases are bolded, so you can see that I've kept them.**

**Also, to any readers of Alda, Bryn and Jerome, It has not been abandoned, I've just been extremely busy, and have had a severe case of writer's block with that particular fic. I'm so sorry I haven't updated in *gasp* seven months, and I'll be updating it as soon as I can, I promise!**

**Let the Challenge Begin!**

Gilan moved quietly through the forest, making no more sound than a shadow. **Shadows, **however, never appear alone. They tend to be following something or someone making considerably more noise. In this case, Sir Rodney.

The young, recently appointed Battlemaster was crashing through the woods **like an angry Skandian. **Gilan rolled his eyes. "Surely you could try to be a bit quieter?" he called.

Rodney turned to the boy, grinning. "Why? Does it hurt those poor little Ranger instincts of yours?"

"Yes, yes it does," replied Gilan.

Rodney rounded on him, thudding him on the back. "Then embrace your inner knight," he said. "Let that **candle** shine for a little while, eh?"

Gilan and Rodney had both studied under the swordsmaster MacNeil, and had known each other for as long as Gilan could remember. Rodney, however, remembered his first encounter with Gilan very well. He had been fifteen at the time, Gilan had been six. Being challenged to a duel by a six-year-old had been somewhat… amusing. That was ten years ago, and the two were now as close as brothers.

When Rodney had been appointed Battlemaster just a few short months previously, he had taken to the role very quickly. However, being little older than many of his students, and younger then most of his staff, had its difficulties. Rodney wasn't used to being cooped up, and the constant pressure of the role was really getting to him. And it didn't help that his authority was constantly being undermined.

So, after witnessing Rodney scream a storm after being compared with a **flower** by one of his more insolent students, Gilan decided to do something about it. After all, there were people in Arrida trying to sleep. So, he did the unthinkable – he asked Halt for a day off.

Normally Halt would have told him he could have a day off – to do some gruelling 'fitness training' with the Battleschool students, and then told him to tend to the **fire**. However, Halt shared Gilan's opinion concerning Sir Rodney. "You can have the day off," he had told his apprentice gruffly, "so long as you finish that **report **first." He indicated a bulging wad of papers lying on the table.

Gilan sighed, and moved to pick up the bundle. A **letter **fell out, onto the table. He opened the bundle, and saw more letters, surveys and previous reports. He realized with horror that it was one of _those _reports, concerning how satisfied the townspeople were with the affairs of the castle. Oh no. They always took _hours._ It was going to be a late night.

Upon returning the report to the castle the next day, Gilan persuaded Rodney to come on a hunting trip. Hunting held no appeal to Gilan, but Rodney seemed to enjoy it. So here they were, out hunting, not having caught anything as they couldn't get within a hundred meters of an animal without it hearing Rodney and scuttling away.

Gilan studied his companion with interest. Rodney had turned around, and was now crashing through the woods again, disturbing the local wildlife and just about destroying any chance of them finding any game. Gilan gave a sly smile, bringing his hand to the hilt of his sword.

Gilan pulled his **cloak **over his head. In seconds, he was standing directly in front of Rodney. Gilan leapt forward, having seemingly come straight out of a tree.

Rodney let out a short cry, ducking to avoid Gilan's blade. Laughing, he drew his own blade, and they began to spar.

"I'm 'embracing my inner knight'" Gilan grinned.

Rodney shook his head. "No, no, no!" he laughed. "You used your dirty little Ranger tricks. A Knight confronts his enemies boldly and openly."

Gilan's eyes widened in apparent realisation. "Oooh," he retorted. "So _that's _why Rangers usually live so much longer than knights." At this, Rodney delivered a particularly savage blow, sending Gilan stumbling backwards.

Gilan looked up from the ground, grinning at Rodney, who was staring down at him. Suddenly, Rodney's eyes widened in alarm. He reached down, pulling Gilan to his feet. "We're being watched," he whispered into the boy's ear.

At that moment, twenty armed men came crashing down towards them. Gilan whipped out his bow, and began shooting. Rodney stayed near him, intending to cover him when the men got closer. "Bandits," Gilan panted.

Rodney nodded. "We can't fight all of them," he said. "Let's get out of here."

Gilan nodded, unsheathing his sword, and they battled their way out. Once they had broken free, Rodney ran, and didn't stop until he was a hundred meters away from the bandits. Panting, he glanced around to find Gilan. To Rodney's alarm, Gilan wasn't there. He spun around, and to his shock, he saw the Bandits hurrying away, dragging Gilan's unconscious form behind them.

* * *

Halt sighed, a pleased smile tugging at the corners of his lips. It had been a quiet, uneventful day. Gilan had left early that morning, so Halt hadn't seen him since last night. As much as Halt enjoyed having an apprentice around the place (not that he'd ever admit that to Gilan) it was nice to have some peace and quiet once in a while. Maybe he should give Gilan a day off more often. Halt quickly discarded the idea. He couldn't have his apprentice getting lazy.

He dumped a clump of honey into his coffee; stirring it with a **spoon **and watching it **melt **into the warm water. He felt a **twinge **in the back of his knee, and grimaced in annoyance. That young, scallywag of an apprentice was causing him to age before his time.

Just as Halt was sinking down into his armchair, he heard a crash at the door. Halt shuddered. Not even Gilan was that loud. In fact, to be that loud, you had to be a knight. He groaned. So much for peace and quiet. "Come in," he called.

After a few seconds, Sir Rodney entered, an incredulous look across his face. "Don't you lock your door?" he asked.

"No, not even when I'm out," replied Halt.

Rodney's eyes widened in alarm. "Really? You should, Halt. There's some valuable documents in here."

Halt rolled his eyes. "**It's called sarcasm**, Rodney, of course I lock it when I'm out. But when I'm at home, I don't see the point. **And you're here because…?** Where is my apprentice?"

The colour drained from Rodney's face. "Yes, about that…" he stuttered.

Halt's face grew thunderous as Rodney told everything that had happened. Nobody messed with his apprentice.

* * *

The first thing Gilan noticed when he awoke was that there was a **vile **scent in the air. He looked beside him, then gagged as he realized it was his own vomit that was making the smell. His whole body was covered in one giant **ache**. He blinked, wondering where he was. Oh, right. He and Rodney had been out hunting, and bandits had attacked.

He tried to sit up, but found he was tied to the ground. He craned his neck up, trying to take a look at his surroundings. From his position lying in a pile of leaves, he could see – leaves. Lots of them. He could see no trace of the bandits. He blinked in confusion. Did that mean he'd gotten away, that he hadn't been captured? No, that wasn't possible. He was bound.

Gilan blew another **leaf **off his face. So, he had been captured by bandits then left here to die. Perfect. Gilan knew Halt would be out looking for him right now, so he wasn't too worried about himself. He just hoped Rodney was safe.

There was a rustle in the trees behind him, and a young man emerged, moving to stand above Gilan. So he wasn't left for dead then. Ah, well.

The bandit unsheathed a small **dagger. **He was only a little older then Gilan, perhaps eighteen or nineteen. Gilan cracked a smile at him. "Hi," the apprentice Ranger said, glancing warily at the **dagger. **"I'd be careful with that." The Bandit just stared. "Fine, be a **twit**," muttered Gilan in annoyance.

The Bandit bent down and began hacking at Gilan's bonds. "Thanks," Gilan said, getting up to leave. The Bandit pulled him back, holding the **dagger** to his throat. Dimly, Gilan was aware that his captor was chuckling.

"Aren't you cheeky?" the bandit commented, his voice gruff, but amused.

"It's the way I was born," grumbled Gilan. "**Not like I had anything to do with it**. Oh, hello Halt."

The Bandit's head jerked up, to see the thunderous face of a short, grizzled man just inches from his own, which promptly went white with fear. Gilan took advantage of his captor's shock to break free. He staggered towards his mentor, leaving the bandit standing flabbergasted.

Halt glared at the Bandit. "Let's go, Gilan," he said.

Gilan frowned. **"But, Halt…!" **

Halt let out an exasperated sigh. "What is it, Gilan?"

**Gilan's mind was like a blunt Saxe knife, **and currently he really wasn't in a position to believe anything his eyes told him. However, he was fairly sure he could see bandits closing in all around them. "We're trapped, Halt," he told his mentor. There would be much future debate on whether or not Gilan said or sung those words.

Halt glanced around. "Gorlog's beard!" he exclaimed. He jerked his thumb at the man in front of him. "Now, if it had just been you, I might have let you go. But nooooo, you had to invite all your friends."

"Halt!" Gilan protested. "Rodney and I would never have been overcome by just one person!"

"That's debatable," replied Halt. "If the person in question was me, then yes, you would have. But I'd expect you to be able to defeat _him_." Gilan wondered if something really ought to be done about that ego of Halt's.

Halt brought the hilt of his Saxe knife down upon the first bandit's temple. He pulled his **cloak **over his head, and completely disappeared from sight.

Gilan watched in amazement, as all around him he saw the Bandits **fall, **screaming. Speaking of falling, his own vision was beginning to grow blurry…

A minute later, Halt emerged. "Alright, Gilan, _now _let's go." He stopped short, seeing his apprentice unconscious on the ground. Halt groaned, and began to search in his pack for some cold water.

It was then that Rodney chose to come crashing through the trees. He glanced at Gilan's unconscious form. "What did I miss?" he asked. He would have waited for Halt to answer, had he not noticed they were surrounded by a ring of dead or injured bandits. "Wow, Halt. That must have taken quite some skill."

"Nobody messes with my apprentice."

**I know that the events of Oakleaf Bearers/The Battle for Skandia haven't happened yet, and so technically Halt hasn't started using the term 'Gorlog's Beard' yet, but I figure that wouldn't have been the first time Halt consorted with Skandians. So he probably already knew the term.**

**Please review! Constructive criticism is always welcome! **


End file.
